


Nowhere, Kansas

by IzzexIsEndgame (errrnflips)



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M, Izzex, izzexday
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errrnflips/pseuds/IzzexIsEndgame
Summary: An Izzex future/AU in celebration of one year of our favorite endgame!An insight into Izzie and Alex's new life together: their past, their present, and their future.A companion piece to the AU in "Before We Turn to Stone."Original characters include:Dylan Rees - Izzie's particular friend, a general surgeonAnh - Alexis and Eli's longtime babysitter; beloved by everyone in the Stevens-Karev family.
Relationships: Alex Karev/Izzie Stevens, Izzex - Relationship
Comments: 14
Kudos: 19





	1. Part 1 - Present

_“A heart on the run keeps a hand on the gun_

_It can't trust anyone._

_I was so sure what I needed was more,_

_Tried to shoot out the sun._

_In days when we raged, we flew off the page_

_Such damage was done;_

_But I made it through, coz somebody knew_

_I was meant for someone.”_

* * *

_One year ago._

This time there was no church. There was a chapel a few hours west of the farm that Izzie briefly considered, but Alex shot it down. The only thing he wanted for this wedding was her, the kids, and their home.

“And Anh,” Eli and Alexis insisted in one voice.

“And Anh,” Alex agreed.

So they kept it simple.

There were flowers, of course; phlox and wild violet, spiderwort and redbud, a riot of wildflowers that turned the western pasture into a gorgeous patchwork quilt of bloom. Anh, beaming and teary, helped Eli and Alexis gather masses of blooms into a bouquet for Izzie to carry.

Izzie’s dress was simpler this time, too: pale, pale pink, like the inside of a petal. It reminded Alex of the dress she wore on their first date, how she looked waiting for him at Joe’s. She wore her hair in a cascade of loose curls; Alex thought she looked about seventeen years old and as beautiful as she’d ever been.

He waited for her under a stand of sassafras trees; they hadn’t even had to discuss the location, because they both knew it was Izzie’s favorite place on the farm. And as Izzie walked through the flowers toward Alex, she didn’t stumble once. She brushed a fallen yellow bloom off his shoulder when she reached him, and when he kissed her, their children screamed in equal parts joy and mock horror.

They’d wanted Meredith there – but as the covid cases started to soar in Seattle, it soon became apparent it was not going to happen. She sent them a lovely card and a magnum of champagne, and that night, Izzie and Alex couldn’t sleep for being tipsy and giddy on joy and bubbles.

Anh brought a proper camera and took almost 300 photos, but Alex’s favorite – the one he insisted they put on the wall, the one he printed and put in his wallet – was taken by Alexis. It shows Izzie, looking at the camera, with Alex standing slightly behind her, looking at her. Both their faces are aglow, and their hands are linked in a heart-shaped knot.

* * *

_Today._

“He’s cheating on me.”

Dylan doesn’t answer at first. He finishes filling his and Izzie’s glasses with pinot grigio and walks back to the couch. Izzie, her knees tucked up under her chin, reaches for the wine, but instead of handing it to her, Dylan sets it down on his coffee table. He sits down next to her, and with great love and gentleness, reaches out and flicks her on the nose.

“Hey!”

“You’re an idiot.”

“That _hurt,”_ she grumbles, rubbing her nose. She swipes her wine glass from the table and takes a gulp.

“You do not actually think he’s cheating on you,” Dylan says as he settles back against the couch cushions. His voice is bored and slightly amused. “Right?”

Izzie rolls her eyes. “Okay, no, not _really.”_

“That’s what I thought.”

She waves the piece of paper she’s been clutching in her fist since she arrived at Dylan’s condo in his face. “But something is definitely going on. Why else would he do this?”

He takes the paper from her and looks over it again. “Why would he arrange for him and his wife to have a romantic anniversary weekend at an AirBnB without children?”

“Yes!”

“Because he loves you.”

She smiles at that. “He does. But—”

“Because you’ve been working on opposite schedules for the past nine months, quarantining and helping the kids with the school and basically never seeing each other except for the one day a month you overlap at the hospital.”

“Well, yeah—”

“And because now that things are calming down, and you don’t have to quarantine anymore, and there’s a chance for both of you to breathe, maybe, just maybe, he wants to have hot, dirty bed-and-breakfast sex with his wife.”

She’s chuckling now as she snatches the note back from him. “Okay, enough.”

She reads it again; it’s probably the sixtieth time today. Alex had been gone when she woke up this morning – she vaguely remembers him getting an emergency page sometime during the predawn hours. She’d stumbled into the kitchen to find a steaming pot of coffee and her favorite mug waiting for her on the counter – one of the tiny married rituals she and Alex do for each other on the days they can’t start their mornings together.

But today was different. Today there had been this note.

“But seriously – I do not catch any whiff of anything weird about this.” Dylan finally takes a drink and levels her a frank look. “So why are you really freaking out?”

She takes Alex’s note back and studies it quietly. She notices, not for the first time, that Eli makes his _a’s_ and _k’s_ the same way his father does. It makes her heart skip a sweet series of beats.

“Izzie. C’mon. What’s up?”

“What if… what if it’s getting to him?”

Dylan cocks his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“All of it… the grind of parenting and working and having no time for romance. I mean, last time we had sex I jumped out of bed when it was over to start a load of laundry because neither of us had any clean work clothes, and he had to run into the living room to help the kids with their online learning.” She drains the rest of her wine and looks at the empty glass glumly. “We just… we didn’t get a chance to do any of the fun, sexy stuff this time. We found each other again and it was just, bam, instant family, with all the stuff that comes with it.” She waves the note through the air. “What if this is his way of telling me that he needs more than what I’ve been giving him?”

She ought to have seen it coming, but she still fails to dodge as her friend flicks her in the nose again.

“ _Damn it, Rees, would you stop that?!”_

“Is it getting to you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“The grind. The no time for romance. The in-between-laundry-and-Zoom-classes sex.”

She shakes her head. “Of course not.”

“Are you happy, then?”

A memory flashes into her brain, unbidden, to a month ago, after the last of the covid surges. Shawnee County Hospital was no longer requiring all hands on deck at all hours; she and Alex had, for the first time in months, come home at the same time, spent an evening with their children, and gotten into bed at the same time. She remembers how Alex had banded his arm around her waist as he pulled her back against his chest, how he’d fallen asleep in minutes with his face buried in the spread of her hair. She remembers waking up in the middle of the night, the familiar, heavy weight of his arm over her, and how she’d fallen back asleep with grateful tears in her eyes.

She thinks about the comfortable joy she feels every time she watches him with their children. She thinks about the way his hand lingers on the small of her back every time he passes her in the hall. She thinks about the glow of pride she feels when he tells her about another new advancement in the peds department, the program that he’s building into something truly great.

Izzie has been extraordinarily lucky in her lifetime, but she never feels quite as lucky as she does when she looks at her husband.

“Of course I am,” she answers softly. “I mean, I’m exhausted, but I’m as happy as I’ve been in years.”

“I know you are. Go home.”

She starts to protest, but he takes her wine glass away from her and hauls her up off the couch. “Alex knew what he was getting when you got back together. He _wanted_ it. He wanted the kids and he wanted the grind and he wanted _you.”_

“He did, didn’t he?” It still makes her heart take flight to think about it, how after years alone, after loss after loss, she had a life with the man she’d always loved.

“Go home, Izzie. And hey – enjoy your vacation.”

* * *

With her apprehensions put to rest, Izzie starts to get excited about the prospect of the trip. Like, really excited. She takes a rare day off and spends part of it getting her hair and nails done. On the way home that night she buys new underwear and a sexy set of silky pajamas.

Alex raises one eyebrow when he sees her arrange these items in their shared suitcase as she packs the Thursday before the trip.

“You got some kind of big plans for this trip?” he asks, tracing one finger over a lacy black hem.

“Maybe,” she teases. “Think you can handle it?”

He makes a face as though deep in thought. “I think if I can handle you in those ratty Minnie Mouse pajamas, I can handle just about anything.”

“Excuse you.” She pokes a playful finger into his chest. “Those Minnie jammies are classic. I don’t break those out for just anyone.”

He catches her by the waistband of her jeans and pulls her in close. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, they’re very sexy. But I’m not gonna argue with an upgrade.”

“You’re getting wise in your old age, Dr. Karev.”

“Hey.” A shadow of an indignant expression moves over his handsome face. “Not _that_ old.”

“It’s a perk, in my opinion.” She brushes her lips over his lightly. “Better with age like a fine wine and all that.”

“Better watch out or I’ll show you just how young and virile I can be.”

Izzie chuckles at this. “That’s a threat I can get behind.”

Her chuckle turns into a full-blown raucous laugh as Alex swoops down and scoops her up into his arms, twirling her around like a little kid. She bands her arms around his neck and throws her head back in joy.

“ _Grossssssss!”_ a pair of voices chorus from the door.

Alex stops spinning his wife around as they both turn their laughing faces towards the door. Eli and Alexis are crossing their eyes, slumping against the doorframe and making exaggerated gagging sounds. First grade has brought them to the wise, seasoned opinion that everything their parents do is either “goofy” or “gross.”

Putting Izzie down, Alex points an accusing finger at the kids. “What? You don’t want to see how much your mom and dad love each other?” he jokes.

“No way!” Eli shouts.

“Bleck!” Alexis adds.

“Well then, guess I’ll just have to show off how much I love you two rotten kids.”

And with that he roars and leaps towards them in chase. The twins shriek with glee and dart off down the hall. Alex pauses before he leaves the room and gives Izzie a look that makes her heart take off at a gallop.

“Pack the Minnie jammies too. Just in case.”

She gives him a slow, sexy grin. “Yes sir.”

This trip was going to be _amazing._ How had she ever been anything but thrilled?

* * *

Finally, the day of their trip arrives. Izzie is so excited she’s practically vibrating. Their house for the weekend is about four hours away – a gorgeous, renovated Victorian with a wraparound porch overlooking the Konza Prairie.

“All the bedrooms have fireplaces,” she gushes to Alex as they pull up to the gas station. She’s been looking at photos from the AirBnB since they dropped the kids at Anh’s ten minutes before. “And – Alex, look at this _tub!”_ She pinches her screen to enlarge the photo. “Oh my God, I would kill to have a claw foot tub like this at home.”

Alex grins at her as he unbuckles his seatbelt. “So you’re telling me for our next anniversary I should just buy you a bathroom renovation?”

“I also would accept having a second oven installed in the kitchen.”

He pulls a thoughtful face. “Yeah, but you’ll get naked in the tub.”

“I’d get naked while baking for a second oven.”

Her husband laughs and leans over. “Bluff called.” His kiss lingers longer than it normally does, and they grin at each other when they draw apart. “Hold on to that thought,” he tells her, then he slides out of the car to fill up the gas tank.

She busies herself with looking up local restaurants near the house for the weekend, glancing up only when she hears the faint tinny ring of Alex’s phone outside the car. She does a double take when she sees him answer the call: his face, so relaxed and cheerful before, falls almost immediately.

He turns and walks away from the pump before she can hear what he’s saying, but when he gets back into the car, she knows that the news isn’t good.

 _“No!”_ Izzie gasps in dismay when he fills her in.

His face is stormy. “Yeah.”

“They can’t just cancel on us. Can they?”

He swipes to his email on his phone and holds it up for her to see the cancellation notice that has already appeared in his inbox. “They already did. The house’s owner says the guests who were there last week tested positive for covid – the whole family. Says she needs to have the whole place deep cleaned before they’ll let anyone else stay there.”

“Covid is _airborne_ ,” Izzie protests. “And we’re both vaccinated! Did you tell her—”

“She doesn’t want to get sued, Iz. I don’t think anything I tell her is gonna matter.”

They sit in stunned silence for a few minutes before a black Jeep pulls up behind them. The driver leans lightly on the horn, to which Alex gives a halfhearted wave. He buckles his seatbelt and turns the car back on. Instead of heading for the highway, he heads back towards the farm.

Izzie’s eyes sting with tears. Given how skeptical about the vacation she was at first, she’s surprised at how let down she feels now. She swipes at her eyes and glances back over at Alex. She sees the same disappointment on his face: his jaw is clenched so tight she can see the tic of muscles under the skin. She reaches out and covers Alex’s hand with hers. It takes a minute, but he eventually turns his palm up to hold her hand.

By the time they make it back to the farm, Izzie’s naturally optimistic brain has turned the corner; she’s still bummed – seriously, that claw foot tub was the thing of her deepest fantasies – but she isn’t willing to waste this chance to get some alone time with her husband.

Alex pulls up to the house and cuts the engine. He leans back in his seat, staring blankly out the windshield, finally glancing over at Izzie after she squeezes his hand.

“Hey,” she says softly. She turns on her most flirtatious smile. “We might not be getting away, but we have an empty house for the first time in… maybe ever. What do you say I go dig out those sexy pjs?”

She expects him to jump at the offer. What she doesn’t expect is his half-hearted shrug.

“Yeah, why don’t you do that? I’m just gonna… I need to take a walk real quick first.”

And before Izzie can react, he’s out of the car and stalking off into the orchard.

* * *

Izzie puts on her lingerie and waits.

When Alex doesn’t show up within twenty minutes, she gets out of their bed and runs through the house, collecting every candle they own. She sets them up in their bedroom, drawing the curtains and turning off the overhead lights, letting the candles’ flickering glow fill the room. She gets back into bed and she waits.

When Alex doesn’t show up after an hour, she starts to panic.

A thunderstorm rolls in from the west, sending sheets of rain crashing down on the roof. Their bedroom is almost as dark as night when – finally – Alex stumbles in, soaked to the bone, hair and clothing plastered to his body with rain.

Izzie climbs out of bed. “Alex!”

That tightness from before is still darkening Alex’s face, but it fades a little when he looks at Izzie clad in black silk and lace, her hair tumbling down around her shoulders.

“Wow,” he murmurs.

Before she can say anything else, he crosses the room in two huge strides, crushing Izzie against him. She gasps as his cold, wet clothes press against her body – but the sensation immediately fades when he kisses her, a roar of heat moving up through her body.

She gives in to the sensation for a minute, but only a minute. She breaks the kiss, pulls back and stares into Alex’s face. He avoids her eyes, but she can still read him like a book.

She takes Alex’s chin in her hand, forcing him to look her in the eye.

“You’re disappointed,” she states.

Alex shrugs. “I – yeah. Yeah, I’m disappointed.”

“You were looking forward to this trip.”

“Yeah.”

“Alex.” She leans her forehead against his and sighs. “I’m – I’m sorry.”

He gives a slight, confused shake of his head. “What’re you talking about?”

“I just…” She takes a step back and crosses her arms hard over her chest; she’s cold and wet. “I know it’s hard right now. I know how… I know right now it seems like everything in our life is just grind. I know that—”

Alex holds up a hand to interrupts her, striding over to their closet. He brings Izzie her fuzzy blue robe; it’s easily the least sexy item of clothing she owns, but she smiles and pulls it over her lingerie.

“We’re doctors,” she goes on. “We’re doctors during a pandemic. We’re doctors who are also _parents_ during a pandemic and we just… we don’t have _time_ for romance or sexy vacations or fun. And I know that sucks. I know – I know it’s not necessarily what you signed up for when you left Seattle. When you left…”

She trails off, staring at the ground. They never talk about his other wife – the woman he left when he came back to their family. But she feels Jo Wilson’s presence in their room now, hasn’t stopped thinking about her since the call that canceled their vacation.

She clears her throat and starts over, still staring at her feet. “But Alex.” She grabs his hands in hers and dares to look up into his eyes. “We will get back to that point. I promise you we will. Yes, we’re in the weeds right now, but we won’t always be. You just… Please just stick with me and I promise you we’ll get there.”

Alex no longer looks disappointed. Now he looks gobsmacked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he tells her.

“I—”

He puts up a hand, and Izzie’s heart drops to see a flicker of frustration come over his expression. “You think I’m… not happy? With you and the kids?”

“No!” She puts her hand on his chest. “I know that you love them. I know that you love _me._ I just also know that… daily life when you’re part of a family isn’t always sexy or romantic or very much fun.”

“What the hell, Izzie?” he says. He’s full-on irritated now. “I don’t care about that. I’m disappointed that our trip got cancelled, I’m not disappointed with our _life.”_

“You just… You seemed _really upset._ So upset it seemed like there was… something more going on.”

“Don’t be stupid.”

She is about to object to him calling her stupid, but he steps forward and kisses her again, passionate and tender and true. His tongue in her mouth drives away every other thought.

“Iz,” he says when they finally break apart. “The romance and the sexiness and the fun are important, but they’re not what gets me through the weeds.”

“They’re not?” she asks weakly.

“No.” He reaches out and slowly peels her robe away from her shoulders. He slides the strap of her lingerie down her arm. “You’re what gets me through. And now it’s not just you, it’s the kids too. It’s Alexis and how I have never met a six-year-old so freakin’ beautiful and stubborn. It’s Eli and the way he says, ‘You know what?’ to me seven hundred times a day and tells me things about penicillin and bones and feathers.”

Alex leans down to press a kiss onto her bare shoulder. Izzie slides her hands down his chest and takes the hem of his shirt in her hands. She slowly peels the wet fabric up and over his head, then tosses it across the room.

“It’s getting to wake up with you every day,” he goes on. He steps closer to her and guides her hands to his belt, which she slowly unbuckles. “It’s getting to build something strong and real and good, getting to build a future. Knowing we’re on a path to something great, together… That’s what get me through. I’m not here for the flashy stuff, Iz; I’m here for the real stuff. I have always wanted that, and it has _always been with you._ ”

And with that, they tumble into their bed.

Later – after the storm has rolled past, after Izzie has curled herself around Alex’s body and is drifting deliciously close to sleep – she hears him quietly say her name.

“Yeah?” She props herself up on one elbow to look down at him. She never gets tired of seeing him in her bed.

“I was disappointed. Not because I’m not happy with our life, or because it’s not what I want… It’s because I wanted to ask you something, and I wanted to make it special. That’s why I planned the trip.”

“Okay.” She gives him a teasing smile. “Do you want a claw-foot bathtub? A second oven?”

He laughs at that. “No.”

“You’ve got it. Just name it. Anything you want.”

He takes a deep breath. She’s briefly surprised to realize that Alex – assured, grounded, stubborn, certain Alex – is nervous.

“We should have another baby.”

* * *

“You’re insane.”

“Trust me, I’m not denying that.” Alex pops the cork off the champagne and fills the two glasses on the counter. He offers one to her. Izzie snatches the glass from his hand and drinks it down in one gulp, then gestures for him to fill it up again.

“You want to have another baby.”

“Yes.”

“With _me?”_

“Izzie.”

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just…” She sips her drink again, watches Alex as he drinks his. He’s been calm and steady while she spins out, his eyes never leaving hers as she paces around their kitchen, an amused half-smile on his face.

She paces in silence: back and forth, back and forth.

Another baby. Another set of chubby cheeks and dimples. Another sweet-scented head to breathe in during long dark nights.

Another baby.

Finally, she blurts out, “You know I can’t just… _get pregnant._ ”

The smile on Alex’s face fades somewhat. He reaches out to hold her hand. “I know.”

“I’d have to do IVF again. And there’s…” She shakes her head. “I’m older now. There’s no guarantee it’ll work.”

“I know that too.”

There are so many reasons to say no.

They’ll never sleep. Forget sexy lingerie and vacations. They’ll be buried in diapers and burp cloths and squishy, rattling toys.

“What brought this on?” she asks.

Alex lifts one shoulder, the way he does when something matters deeply to him and he doesn’t want to show it. “I missed out on it, before.” He brushes a light kiss over her mouth when he sees the regret pass over her face. “I’m not mad, Iz, you know that – we’re way past that. But I just keep looking at the twins and I mean… they’re so damn smart and so grown and it just makes me a little…”

“Wistful,” she whispers. She knows the feeling.

“Yeah, exactly.”

They’re quiet for a few minutes, sipping their champagne.

Finally, Alex goes on, “It’s not like I can’t be happy if we can’t have another baby. What we have now is great – better than great. It’s everything. But I do think that we don’t at least try I’ll always, you know, wonder.”

Izzie closes her eyes, thinking back to those long, dreamy, terrifying and beautiful days when it was just her and her two perfect babies. The way her love for them took root and bloomed. The way their lives anchored her, made her want to be stronger, kinder, better. The way seeing glimpses of Alex in their faces as they grew healed parts of her heart she hadn’t known were still bleeding.

There are so many reasons to say no.

But Alex. Alex is more than enough of a reason to say yes.

“Yes,” she says simply.

Alex stares at her. “Just… yes?”

She steps into his arms, settling against his chest where his heart is thrumming. “I love you,” she says. “More than I’ve ever loved anyone. I’d have a hundred more babies if I was having them with you.”

“Slow down there, lady,” he jokes. “Let’s start with one more.”

Their laughter blooms into a kiss – the sweetest kiss she’s ever known.

They’re going to have a baby.


	2. Part II - Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Izzie and Alex learn that even the best, most beautiful plans have their rough patches. Fortunately, help comes in an unexpected form.

_“And the old lovers sing_

_‘I thought it'd be me who helped him get home.’_

_But home was a dream, one I'd never seen_

_'til you came along.”_

* * *

Alex isn’t one to linger in the past – never has been. It used to be that it made him too pissed off or sad or whatever; now it’s just he’s too damn busy. Building up a world class peds’ department from scratch, parenting twins, being a good husband… it takes up so much of his brain-space he doesn’t know what he’d do with nostalgia. So he doesn’t really talk about or think about his old life very much. But once a month he doesn’t have any choice in the matter: one of the very first things Izzie insisted on after he’d left Seattle was that Alex set up a recurring call with Meredith.

“You need friends,” she’d insisted.

“I have friends. I have you.”

“You need friends _other than me._ And Meredith needs you too,” she’d said as she programmed the reminder into his phone. “Besides, it’s good to have something outside of work and home to look forward to.”

He agreed, if for no other reason than he knows it’s pointless to argue with Izzie when she sets on to something like that. And it’s nice to chat – even though Mer gives him a run for his money for who can be the busiest. But even that isn’t a problem; if Mer happens to be occupied during their chat, she passes off the phone to Zola if she’s at home or someone from Grey-Sloan if she’s at work. It surprised him how good it felt to keep in contact with the old crowd, how these days, thinking about the past doesn’t cause him anything but a mild pleasure.

And then, a few months into the calls, the pleasure grew into proper joy. One day he dialed in to the monthly call and saw not only Meredith but Cristina Yang grinning back at him from the screen.

“This is the closest thing I’ve had to a date in a year,” she had snarked after his joyful greeting. “But it’s better because I don’t have to shave my legs.”

The three of them enjoyed that call so much that these days, Yang is on the line as often as Mer. If he’s at home during the call, sometimes he’ll rope Izzie or the kids into chatting; the twins are forever asking after Mer’s kids, and he can’t decide if Eli loves Cristina or Meredith more. It’s like a mini family reunion once a month, and more often than not, it serves to cement Alex’s feeling of completion, his sense that this life was one he was meant to live.

So why is he dreading the call today?

“You look like crap.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “Whatever happened to ‘good morning’? ‘Nice to see you, Alex’?”

“Good morning,” Cristina teases. She’s in her bed, covers pulled up to her chin, cascades of hair spilling over the pillow under her head. “Or evening, I guess, for you. You look like crap.”

He doesn’t want to smile, but he does. “Thanks.”

“Are you still at work?”

“Yep.” He reaches back to lock his office door and wanders over to his desk. “MVC. Two kids in the backseat. They’ll make it.” He glances down at his watch. “Mer planning on calling in?”

“In a bit. She had to help the kids get to bed. I just hung up with her.”

“You’ve already been on the phone today? What time is it there, six AM?”

“Five.”

“When do you sleep, Yang?”

“It’s less sleeping and more refueling with coffee or tequila.” The screen wavers as she shifts position. “So spill. What’s with that face?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my face,” Alex grunts. But he can see the truth in the corner of his tiny screen: the bags under his eyes. The lines around his mouth that weren’t there months before.

No two ways around it. He just looks… sad.

He’s been quiet for too long, apparently, because the good humor has gone out of Cristina’s face. She looks concerned now, which is touching, but also much worse.

“How’d the second transfer go?” she asks carefully.

“It, uh… It went bad. Didn’t work.”

“Damn it,” Yang says, softly, with feeling.

He clears his throat. Damn it, he’s not going to get weepy. “Yeah.”

“How many more embryos are there?”

“Just two.” He clears his throat again. _Keep it together, Karev._

“How’s she taking it?”

He blows out a stream of air. He looks out the window. At the ceiling. At his feet. Anywhere but the screen, because if he meets Cristina’s eyes, nothing will keep him from crying for real. “She’s sad. I’m… I’m starting to get a little worried.”

Yang chuckles. “Just call the homeless shelter. They’ll be happy to take a donation of seven thousand muffins.”

“No. It’s… it’s worse than that.”

“Worse than what?”

He looks back down at the screen to see Mer, concern creasing her forehead. He briefly fills her in.

“She’s not herself,” he concludes. “She’s just...” He rolls one shoulder. “She’s not baking. She’s not talking a million miles an hour, trying to make herself feel better. She’s not even crying on our bathroom floor. She’s still engaged with the kids and with me, but when she’s by herself… when she thinks I’m not looking… She’s too quiet, is all.”

The others are quiet too.

“You’re right,” Mer says finally. “That’s not good.”

“Yeah.”

“What you need,” Cristina says suddenly, “is something to snap her out of it. Like a gift.”

He scoffs. “You think flowers and chocolate are really the best move here?”

Mer laughs and Cristina shoots back, “No, I mean a _good_ gift.” She presses her fingers to her mouth as she thinks about it. “Something amazing. Like… a surgery.”

“Izzie isn’t as bloodthirsty as you are, Yang.”

“No, she’s right,” Mer says as Cristina sticks out her tongue. “I mean, you’re right too – no one’s as bloodthirsty as Cristina—”

“Hey!”

“—but Izzie’s the best at what she does. If she’s got an intense, all-consuming surgery, she’s going to devote herself to it completely. It’ll get her mind back in a good place.”

He thinks about this for a minute and then gives a dismissive shake of his head. “What, I’m just supposed to conjure up an amazing surgery for her? Just like that?”

Mer’s eyes go bright. “Maybe you won’t have to,” she says, and before Alex can respond, she’s hung up.

He and Cristina meet each other’s eyes. They both shrug.

“Maybe get the flowers anyway,” she suggests. “Just in case.”

He gets the flowers, though he’ll never tell Cristina that he did. Just somewhat scraggly Gerber daisies from the five-dollar bin at their local supermarket, but they’ll do.

He plans on putting them in water for Izzie to find when she wakes up – it’s well past midnight by the time he gets home – but when he walks into the house he sees the light in their bedroom is still on.

But Izzie’s not there.

He sets the flowers down on the kitchen counter and ducks into the kids’ shared bedroom.

Alexis sleeps as hard as Alex does: she’s sprawled sideways across her bed, her elfin face half hidden by her hair. She doesn’t even stir when Alex kisses her on the cheek.

Eli is burrowed into his blankets like he’s freezing, though his forehead is warm and slightly damp as Alex smooths his hair back from his brow.

His son stirs and his eyes peep open blearily.

“Hi Dad.”

“Hi buddy. Go back to sleep.”

“’k.” He snuggles farther under the blankets. “Is Mom back yet?”

“Hm. She’s not in our room. Where did she go?”

Eli extends his hand to point out their dark window. “Outside.”

Alex tucks the blankets under Eli’s chin and gives him a brief kiss. “I’ll track her down. Go to sleep.”

Eli’s eyes flutter closed as Alex leaves the room.

He grabs the flowers from the counter and wanders out into the farm.

She’s sitting under the tree where they got married. She’s pulled one of their Adirondack chairs out there with her and she’s nestled deep within it, wrapped in an enormous fleece blanket against the mild air. A breeze teases a strand of her long blond hair out from the loose knot at the base of her neck. She’d look peaceful if not for the deep, quiet grief in her eyes.

Alex kneels in front of her and lays the daisies across her knees.

Izzie blinks at him, then smiles and puts her hand on the daisies. “What’s this for?”

“Just because,” he lies.

She strokes the pad of her thumb across the petals. “They’re pretty. Thank you.”

They’re quiet for a moment. Izzie looks away from him, out into the deep blackness of the night.

It swarms him, then: his own sadness and his loss and his guilt for doing this to the person he loves best in the whole world. And it’s a good thing that Alex Karev is not the man he once was – because the man he once was would have thrown up a wall against those feelings, against Izzie. He would have been cruel and dismissive and he would have wounded his wife even more deeply.

So instead, Alex lets the feelings in.

And they almost destroy him.

He drops his head into her lap. “This is all my fault,” he mutters.

His wife startles and looks down at him. “What?”

“We were perfectly happy before. No doctors and no needles and no… It’s my fault.”

Izzie lays her hand against his cheek, so gentle it makes him teary. “Stop,” she says. “It’s nobody’s fault.”

He looks up and shakes his head. “I should’ve just left well enough alone. Our life was perfect.”

“Alex, our life is _still_ perfect,” she reminds him. “That doesn’t change because I’m going through something. And besides.” She leans down and kisses him deeply. “I don’t want a life where we just sit with the status quo out of fear. I want us to chase the things we want, Alex.”

They kiss lightly.

“We don’t have to do another IVF round if you don’t want to,” he tells her.

“I… I don’t know if I want to or not.”

“That’s okay too,” he answers.

She breathes deeply. “I can’t imagine losing that last embryo. Like… I know there would be other options after that. But…” She shakes her head. “I just don’t know.”

“Whatever you decide, that’s what we’ll do.” He runs his thumb over her lips and down her chin. “I just want you to be happy.”

She takes his hand and squeezes his fingers. “When did you become so calm and reasonable?” she asks, and Alex is thrilled to see a little light in her eyes again.

“Had to happen at some point.” He squeezes back. “Come on. I’m exhausted. Let’s go inside.”

He picks up the chair; she picks up the blanket. Their shoulders brush each other as they walk back to their house, its brightly lit windows cozy and safe against the dark.

* * *

She didn’t lie to Alex.

Not exactly.

She _doesn’t_ want to stop chasing dreams. She _doesn’t_ want to live a life based in fear.

But God, does it have to hurt so much?

She makes an effort, for him, for the kids, for her. She smiles more and tries to focus on the good, on her beautiful family and their beautiful life.

But it creeps in: the sadness. The sense of loss. The feeling of mourning for what might have been. She looks at Alex and can’t help but mourn at the thought that she might never get to see him holding one of their babies. It brings in all these feelings of regret and guilt about how he missed the first part of the twins’ lives that she thought had been resolved.

It carves out the inside of her heart. There are days when she wakes up and the only thing she wants to do, the only thing she can summon the energy for, is to snuggle deeper under the covers.

That is, until two weeks later, on the Friday afternoon when she gets the call from Meredith.

“I just read the paper you published last spring,” Meredith says after they’ve spent a few minutes catching up. They don’t talk nearly as often as Meredith and Alex do. “The case study on hyperthermic intraperitoneal chemotherapy.”

“Oh. Yeah.” If she’d been expecting something particular on this call, that wasn’t it.

“I think it’s going to be the wave of the future for site-specific cancers.”

“Oh absolutely,” she says, warming to the topic. She settles back into her office chair and spins idly. “Since it reduces the effect of chemotherapy on the rest of the body, I’m hoping there will be more clinicals done for HIPEC as a treatment for pediatric cancers. Alex and I have been talking about writing a grant for that, it’s just kind of fallen by the wayside since…” She trails off.

Meredith gives her a minute, then says, “I want to send over a case file to you… a patient I think would be a perfect candidate for HIPEC treatment. Will you take a look?”

“Of course I will.” She glances down at her watch, which is vibrating gently with an alarm. “I’ve got to run – time to round on my patients. Send it over and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”

She gives Meredith the remote file share site the hospital uses so she can send the documents over, wraps up their chat with a few minutes of warm pleasantries, then gets to work.

The morning flies by after that: rounds and a quick VATS procedure for her lobectomy patient, Bert, so textbook-simple that Izzie almost finds it relaxing. She returns to her office to find two things that increase her mood even more: a signed fellowship offer letter from the newly board-certified Rose Allen, her longtime favorite resident, and the case file from Meredith.

At first glance the patient does seem to be an ideal candidate: a forty-five-year-old woman with an initial diagnosis of ovarian cancer that has recently and accurately been reassessed as peritoneal cancer. Izzie clucks her tongue briskly when she sees the rest of the workup: elevated CA-125 and a BRCA2 genetic mutation. She squints at the CT scan and, yes, the tumors are isolated exclusively in the abdomen.

She quickly taps out a text to Meredith: _I am certain your patient would be a great HIPEC candidate._

Meredith responds lightning quick.

_Excellent. When can you get out here?_

Izzie hesitates. She hesitates so long that Meredith follows up with a single question mark.

Then she calls Alex.

“Do it,” he says immediately once she’s explained the situation. “You’re the best and they clearly need you.”

“They just barely cleared travel restrictions,” she hedges. “I’m not sure it’s—”

“It’s safe. You can wear a mask. Hell, if you’re that concerned about it, I bet Grey-Sloan would charter a plane for you. They’ve done it before.”

“Would you and the kids be okay?”

He snorts. “I mean, they’ll probably stage a coup and we’ll all be eating ice cream sandwiches for dinner by the time you get home. But yes, Izzie, the kids and I will be fine.”

“Okay then,” she says on a laugh. “You’ve convinced me.”

It’s settled.

Izzie is going back to Grey-Sloan.


End file.
